this road trip is it ten now or less
or more times traversing this landscape making my way across deserted cornfields
soybeans laid down rolling hills that fool me into forgetting the headache of altitudinal arrival
I carry the high sky blue in its infinite seeming to never unravel even as the road stitches its way into the immeasurable
heavy with its weight I think I will not go on yet despite the push to fold under the heaving accumulation
the darkening covers I find I do keep on
and in carrying on this back of mine this bold sky
this one time realization of
of what
expansiveness freedom possibility
this once again realization of weight on my back always there
cloaking protecting? providing
always the layer there neglected for its constancy
reminding me
or letting me find a remembering that reminds me
or letting me find a peace for all the weight of years
for years weigh don’t fool yourself otherwise
why do you think the body begins to fold
no one is left un-creased
for this short expanse of road I carry its reality its truth its something that has slipped past in that quick haze of early morning misted asphalt through cornfields in autumn
I carry
even as it needs no help from me at all
on